


wait (don't pull away)

by quinnovative



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, SuperCorp, They love each other, based off the trailer that i haven't completely watched but have heard lots about, i listened to taylor swift's the archer the whole time i was writing this, kara is trying her best, there is some mild language and one f word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnovative/pseuds/quinnovative
Summary: Lena punches Kara and breaks her hand





	wait (don't pull away)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying really hard to write more again and to actually post my stories instead of letting them sit safely (unseen) in my word document folder, sooo here's a one-shot inspired by the trailer and all the twitter-chaos it prompted ;)

“Lena, no!”

Kara, in all her navy supersuit glory, tries to lean back. Tries to control her physical response as her eyes focus on Lena’s, on the fire behind the green, the heat flushing her cheeks, the rapid metronome of a heart pounding in her chest. Maybe if she hadn’t focused so much on these things—on the guilt like an anchor inside her, the misty sadness a kindling behind Lena’s anger, the way it manifests across her face—Kara would have moved out of the way in time. But instead, the swinging arch of Lena’s arm slams to a halt as the corner of her fist catches Kara’s jaw.

The crack would’ve been audible even without Kara’s superhearing.

“Oh shit, Lena.”

“ _Fuck.”_

With her whole world crumpled beneath her feet, exhausted from trying to keep the higher ground, Lena snapped. Everything inside her eroded by internal contempt over the past weeks, so there’s nothing left to scrape at and the only remaining option is to batter the source towering in front of her: Kara, looking painfully beautiful. An apologetic statue as she stands with the sun on her back and the victory of more lives saved coursing through her veins.

Lena’s anger explodes on contact, its remnants seeping out with the tears that burst from her waterline and glide down her cheeks and the hand she draws toward her chest and the pounding of her heart so loud in her ears it feels like a headache. Her physical pain finally matches the interior torment writhing inside her every waking moment.

Lena stumbles backward, knees buckling as debris catches under her heels from whatever emergency Supergirl had rectified, whoever’s day she had saved, with her hands on her hips and her hair blowing behind her in perfect waves and these nuanced things she carries that Lena finds infuriating and heartbreaking and captivating.

“Are you—are you okay?” Kara babbles when words eventually work their way up her throat.

Positive a scream will rattle out of her chest if she opens her mouth, Lena shoots Kara a glare. Its edge should be lost in the watery eyes that emit it, but instead her tears sharpen the tip of the knife it wedges into Kara’s heart and she’s frozen in place, every superpowered muscle taut for a moment as Lena’s legs give way and she drops toward the ground, swirling the dust at her feet as it rises toward her lungs, sucking for air as though she’s been punched in the gut.

Kara surges forward to grab her. An arm beneath her knees, another delicate around her hand.

“God I’m sorry, Lena, I’m so so sorry,” Kara says on repeat, her voice a whisper on the wind cutting through the street as she takes to the air, lowers Lena to the curb a few blocks over, away from all the bystanders.

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

The guilt forms a lump in Kara’s throat, her heartrate rising to meet Lena’s. She squeezes her hands behind her back to hide their trembling.

“I don’t need your help.”

Lena’s stiff-lipped and shaking.

Kara’s on her knees and reaching out.

Gravel presses into her palms. It shouldn’t hurt but it does. Everything does.

“Please. I know I don’t deserve to help you. I know I don’t deserve to be the one to make you smile anymore or to be your partner on game nights or—or to watch your face light up when you’re working on your latest project,” Kara turns her eyes to the sky, closing them for a moment before Lena bears witness to her own reflection in Kara’s misty blue, “--or to hug you when you’re crying, but you deserve to be helped, Lena, please,” Kara’s voice cracks, “ _please,_ don’t let yourself suffer. This doesn’t have to mean anything more if you don’t want it to. Just let me fix this.”

Lena’s face screws into something Kara doesn’t recognize. There’s a sheen of sweat across her pale skin and her entire hand shakes as she draws back her shoulders and extends the wounded limb. Tired of fighting, ready to sink or to sleep.

Kara cradles Lena’s hand in her own, like there’s an entire life in the swelling tissue and fragile bones, like she’s holding a precious metal in her palm. The last of its kind.

Stomach in a knot and brows drawn together, Kara announces the obvious. “It’s broken.”

Lena’s thumb twitches and Kara aches to hold it with a magnitude she hasn’t known in years. Instead, she eases it back towards Lena and lets her clutch it toward her chest again.

“This really needs a doctor.”

“I know,” Lena whispers, eyes trained on her shoes, embarrassment painting its way across her cheeks in pink hues and heat.

“I know you hate hospitals.”

Lena swallows and doesn’t look up.

“I could take you to the DEO, it’d be quicker, less hassle. Alex’ll do whatever she can, I’m sure, and there are lots of other good doctors there that can help.”

It’s quiet for a long time before Lena replies.

“Okay.”

“Great,” Kara sighs and turns one of her bright smiles on Lena, and despite everything, Lena feels a different kind of warmth flickering in her core. The kind that doesn’t burn.

“I’ll fly you there.” Kara pushes off the ground, standing and leaning over Lena as she extends a hand to help her up.

Immediately, Lena blanches at the suggestion. Shaking her head.

“Oh right, okay.” Kara scrunches her face.

“Then I’ll call Alex, she can drive. I’ll force her to be really careful.” Kara pulls her phone from a pocket in the suit. “We’ll just stay right here until then. I’ll sit with you if that’s okay?” Kara’s voice lilts in question, so different from her Supergirl persona. So similar.

Lena’s shame at her own ineptitude begins to rise, but with Kara’s blue eyes seeking out hers, looking as familiar as they ever have, something beats back against the shame.

A shaking, stuttering excuse of a breath wiggles through Lena’s lungs. In and out. A little steadier each time.

At last, Lena nods.

Kara smiles the softest smile Lena’s ever seen and lowers herself, each movement measured and careful, beside Lena. The curb is warm beneath Kara’s legs as she makes the call quick. The sun is in her eyes, making it hard to see ahead.

“Lena?” Kara begins. “Can I—do you think some ice would help while we wait?”

When Lena grants her permission, Kara blows gentle freeze breath over the bloodied knuckles, little crystals settling over the torn skin.

Her thigh brushes against Lena’s, their legs touching; and when Kara’s done providing ice, she curls her fingers over Lena’s, slowly at first and then completely, as she shelters it in her own curved palm.

Even though it’s light outside, the moon peeks over the horizon.

Lena looks at her hand in Kara’s.

She doesn’t pull away.


End file.
